


A Thimbleful of Magic

by KrisserCI5



Category: The Professionals
Genre: First Time, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-31
Updated: 2013-12-31
Packaged: 2018-01-06 21:00:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1111464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KrisserCI5/pseuds/KrisserCI5
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Doyle won't be ignored when Bodie gets bad news.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Thimbleful of Magic

A Thimbleful of Magic

by krisser

 

Ray Doyle stood looking out the CI5 restroom window as he cupped his tea mug for warmth. He'd fixed it just the way he liked while he exchanged friendly insults with his mates, but other than the first tasting sip his hands had remained attached, leaching all the warmth they could. He continued to look out the window and finally relaxed when he saw his partner pull into the car park below. As the car disappeared into the garage, Ray turned back to face the room. 

It was a slow day for criminal activity, more than likely due to the temperature. It was cold outside, bloody cold. He shivered in remembrance. Doyle half-smiled to himself. If he thought it was cold, Bodie must be a walking icicle by now.

As if just thinking his name could conjure him, a well-bundled Bodie entered the restroom. He clutched a large manila envelope, his face more sombre than usual.

Doyle turned to the hot water maker and with one hand still firmly attached to his cup, poured a coffee into a pre-prepared mug. He walked it over to his partner without a verbal exchange.

Bodie accepted it with a single nod and held it tightly with his gloved hands.

"Cowley wants to see us in twenty minutes," Bodie said before he took a sip of the hot liquid.

Doyle headed straight for the door. He'd understood a lot more than just the words. Bodie's ever-so-slight eye movement communicated unmistakably that they were stepping out.

Bodie checked the closest interrogation viewing room to see if it was in use. A head tilt later, they both entered the room. Bodie slipped the envelope under his arm before he tugged off each finger of his left glove. He tucked that glove next to the envelope as he worked on the other. He stuffed the gloves into his jacket pocket, then fiddled with the envelope. He turned it over and over in his hands.

"It can't be good news. It's from my sister."

Doyle's eyes widened ever so slightly. A sister? First he'd heard of her. Afraid that Bodie would startle like a frightened deer, Doyle refrained from asking any questions. He watched as Bodie flipped the envelope over several more times before he ceased all movement, then tore it open.

He turned the envelope onto its side and a silver thimble fell out. Bodie froze. His whole person seemed to radiate sadness. He closed his fingers around the thimble and held it tight in his fist. He lifted the fisted hand to his lips and held it there. Then, after a moment of still silence, he opened his hand to show Ray the simple object.

"My Gran's thimble of magic." Bodie's eyes glistened and his voice was raspy.

Doyle knew his partner was holding his emotion in check and for this much to be showing was confirmation enough how deeply he felt. Doyle restrained the impulse to pull him into an embrace. No need to make Bodie's day worse.

Doyle wanted the story of the thimble, his gran, his story, his whole bloody life, but remained uncharacteristically quiet as Bodie pulled out the letter that was still inside the envelope. He read it quickly.

"Her funeral's tomorrow." Bodie shook his head. "Probably what Cowley's on about. How he knows?" Bodie shrugged. "Well, how does he know anything?" Bodie shrugged again.

"Where and what time do we leave?" Doyle asked matter-of-factly. No way his partner was doing this alone.

A deep, deep, sigh preceded a head negative head shake. "They don't want me there. The letter was a courtesy only."

"But you want to go anyway."

Bodie shrugged, then nodded.

"Then we go." Doyle emphasised the **we**.

Bodie's shoulders fell into a more natural drop. "We don't have to join the fray, just be on the sidelines away from all. I just need to be there."

"'K with me."

Without further words they left the room and headed to Cowley's office.

 

\-----

 

"If you leave now, you **both** should make Liverpool by nightfall. I expect you both at work on Thursday, eight a.m."

Doyle was relieved that he didn't have to ask.

"I don't need . . ."

"Thank you, sir." Doyle interrupted Bodie's ill-conceived offer of less time off.

Cowley gave Doyle a long look and Doyle nodded his understanding to look after his partner.

 

Doyle steered Bodie to his car, lifting the keys before he knew it. It was easy to collect Bodie's gear, then his own. Takeaway fish and chips and some more coffee saw them on the way north an hour later.

Doyle remained quiet until they cleared London. "What's a thimble of magic?"

Bodie fingered the object still clutched in his hand. He smiled for the first time that day. "My Gran could repair torn clothes or bears in such a way no one could tell. She said it was all due to the thimble that Gramps had given her. Said it was special, filled with magic." Bodie fell silent once more, but seemed more reminiscent than sad.

They stopped once for the loo and more coffee. Doyle drove through the heart of Liverpool, then headed northeast out of downtown, and pulled off the A147. He slowed as he neared the Downholland area. He pulled into the car park of a motel close to the cemetery. Doyle registered. No sense having the Bodie name bandied about. He asked about the closest off-licence, signed his name and particulars, and took the key with thanks.

He followed the easy instructions to the off-licence, they picked up takeaway chicken and headed back to their room. Bodie was quieter than his usual, so Doyle just worked the periphery. Food, drink, box, bog, and bed.

Doyle turned off the light but lay awake until he heard the regular snuffles of a sleeping Bodie.

 

Morning routine was no different than any stakeout or obbo. So insync with each other's routines, they saved enough time for a full breakfast. Bodie was sombre, quiet, and picked at his food. Doyle was glad he had grabbed a few digestives from the tea tray in the room for later.

They headed out to the cemetery. Bodie wanted to be early enough he could stay out of sight. They parked outside on the road, and walked the rest of the way in by meandering among the headstones. Doyle tried to see any Bodie family names, but elected to stay close to Bodie. 

By eleven a.m. the gravesite had a respectful group gathered. The lads stood well behind the Bodie family. They remained unnoticed for the entire service. Bodie stood unmoving by Doyle's side. He stood without fidgeting, lost somewhere in the past.

Doyle leaned against a tree, stood, leaned some more. He'd always hated even parade rest at the police academy. When everyone began leaving, they faded back into the trees. They watched until the last car drove away. When no one but the gravediggers remained, Bodie moved toward the coffin.

Doyle followed.

Bodie stopped at the head of the coffin. He reached out with the thimble and touched the lid. "Gran, I have the thimble and will keep it all my life in case it still has some of your magic." Bodie paused, drew in a rough breath before he finished. "You were loved. You will be missed." He fisted the thimble once more and stood in silence for a full five minutes before he turned to his partner.

"Ready?"

At the car, Bodie held out his hand for the keys. Doyle tossed them over without a fuss. Bodie drove out and in a different direction than they had approached. Doyle looked about, never having been to this part of Liverpool.

Soon, they were driving through typical neighbourhoods. Older houses lined each side of manicured roads. Children playing in the streets, kicking balls, walking dogs. Very regular.

Bodie pulled to the kerb, kept the motor running, and pointed to a house down the street. "Third from the corner. Grew up there. Left when I was fourteen. They told her I died. When I tried to contact them after I returned, my sister told me not to come home. They liked me better dead. Never did go back. Only missed her. Place looks pretty much the same."

Doyle had no words. What do you say to a pronouncement like that? No platitudes developed for that one. As he stared at Bodie's childhood home, he did wonder about a place that would make a fourteen year old leave home and join the Merchant Navy. Maybe one day his curiosity would be answered. He wasn't asking today.

Bodie pulled a U-turn and drove away without a backward glance.

They stopped at a pub for lunch and a beer. Afterwards, they visited the same off-licence and takeaway, taking their purchases back to the motel. Doyle drove this time. 

He pulled into the carpark slowly, turned the motor off, and opened the car door. He stood as Bodie stood. Doyle locked the car and glanced over the top at Bodie. The silent look they shared confirmed their mutual awareness of their tail. 

Doyle melted into the shrubbery as Bodie headed toward the motel door seemingly unaware.

The man stepped out and headed in Bodie's direction. Doyle stepped up behind him, put his hand firmly on his shoulder, and turned him away from his partner.

"Uh." The man was startled and concerned, but called out to Bodie anyway. "Mr Bodie?"

Bodie's eyebrows rose as he looked to Doyle.

The man would not be stopped. "Mr Bodie, I followed you here. I was sure I recognised you." He reacted to the alarm that flitted across Bodie's face. "I was looking for you, none of the others even expected you. She said that you would attend." Again, the man reacted to Bodie's facial expression. "Shannon Ennis knew you weren't dead. A Mr Cowley sent regular updates. She was quite proud."

Doyle released his hold on the man and moved to stand by Bodie's side.

"Sean Kelly. Shannon was my dear friend, and I represented her in legal matters. She left her money to you. But she said the thimble was the most important. She knew you'd understand. Here's my card. We'll arrange an appointment at a better time. I am sorry for your loss."

Sean Kelly shook Bodie's hand, then stepped wide away from Doyle and walked back to his car.

Bodie looked bemused and pained at the same time. Doyle pushed him back toward the room. 

They ate and drank and drank. Six beers apiece later and Bodie was indeed lubricated.

"Oi, Doyle. Ray." Bodie tilted his head as he tried to capture his partner's attention. 

Doyle turned his head and smiled at him.

"Ray, I can't imagine doing all this with anyone else, going, coming here. Thanks, mate."

"You'd do it for me," Ray returned softly. He knew it was true.

Bodie continued, "I stood there looking at all of them, and didn't feel anything. No hate, no anger, no love. Just indifference. It was far more meaningful with you by my side. Like it always is, no matter what we do.

"She was the only real family. Gramps was dead before I can remember, only her descriptions of what they had taught me what could be possible. She was the magic and the thimble the token."

They drank three more beers each. Several trips to the loo and they ended up on the floor leaning against the edge of the bed.

"She loved me, you know, unconditionally. Only one ever did."

"Not the only one, mate." Doyle's soft look conveyed far more than he was aware.

Bodie's smile was soft but sad. "Know that, mate."

The drink removed Doyle's carefully erected walls. "Not just the matey love, but the real one. Joan and Darby. The whole thing. Unconditional."

Bodie grew very still, then tilted his head to the side. "How much have you had to drink?"

"Enough to make me far more honest than usual, not enough to make me incapable." He leaned over and kissed Bodie full on the lips.

And, as he claimed, it wasn't a matey peck, it was a lover's kiss of purpose. Full of deep resolve and lascivious intent.

Bodie caught his breath for half a second before he melted into an offer of a lifetime. 

After a bit, Bodie smiled into Ray's loving eyes, and he pulled the thimble from his pocket. He pressed it into Ray's palm and entwined their fingers. "Guess it still has its magic."

fin

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to my beta. Originally written for the Discovered in a Livejournel Christmas Pudding 2013. Prompt was a thimble.


End file.
